


Just a Little Change (Vincit Qui Se Vincit)

by Prince_Ofluff



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Human, Beauty and the Beast Elements, M/M, Spells & Enchantments
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-09-02
Packaged: 2018-09-28 12:37:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10101098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prince_Ofluff/pseuds/Prince_Ofluff
Summary: Thranduil is the prized hunter in his village of Dale; and a prize for any lady too. Yet he finds himself bored with his easy conquests and the fact that some day he will be settled with a wife and perhaps not one of his choosing. On a whim to see if he could find someone of his equal he comes across a cursed mansion with more than one unfinished tale lingering in its halls.Perhaps through them he will finally see a true reflection of himself.





	1. Chapter 1

 

 

 

Thranduil barely concealed his look of distain as the goose fell from the sky and immediately praise was lavished upon him by Alfrid. The goose was quickly gathered and Thranduil strode away hoping to continue his hunt with at least some semblance of peace and privacy. The hope was dashed however when loud stomping feet followed after him. “That was an amazing shot sir if I do say so myself! I’m sure you could quite impress any you might want with such a show of skill.” Alfrid’s voice broke through the peaceful silence of the woods and Thranduil knew that whatever creatures he might have seen would have vanished at the sound.

He wore soft leather boots that smothered the sound of his footsteps and his clothing was often a mixture of dark greens and browns to help him merge with the woods. His clothing changed to mirror the season and soon he would be setting aside the emerald velvet and start donning red and brown fine wool instead. His long blond hair was tied back simply to keep it out of his face and his hood helped disguise the bright color.

The man following him was a visual assault in red and yellow that made his sallow expression even worse and his hard shoes added height but not stealth.

“Indeed and yet I fear I will not manage to make another shot as long as I have you trailing after me.” His voice was dry as he decided to give up hunting this morning and return to Dale. There was little point in continuing if there was not be no victory and he had no desire to spend further time with the Master of Dale’s pet servant.

“You see sir you might not even have to! The ladies all but fall at your feet already surely at least one of them is desirable to you?” Alfrid continued and it was no secret that the Master of Dale’s daughter had long harbored a crush on Thranduil. No secret at all since she proclaimed it whenever they met and dramatically swooned anytime they happened to be in each other’s company. 

“Few deserve a prize such as myself. I will choose only one that is equal to me and none other.” At last he could make out his hunting lodge in the distance and he quickened his pace. There was no reason that Alfrid would be able to find that would allow him into his private dwelling. He could go out for another hunt this afternoon and perhaps then he might actually be able to complete the task. There were no creatures in the forest that had ever eluded him but it was the only thing that amused him these days. Besides the wolves were always good to target to keep the town safe and their intelligence made them an interesting diversion.

“Of course sir…yes of course.” Alfrid’s voice trailed off as they had reached his door at last. “I’ve been remiss in telling you sir that you have been invited to tea this afternoon with the Master of Dale and his daughter. They are both eager to make your visits to the Estate a more common occurrence.”

Thranduil thought quickly of what excuse he might be able to manage. Little came to mind as one could not easily turn down such an invitation without a form of restitution finding them. He reluctantly gave a nod of his head “Then they can expect me for tea though I’m afraid I won’t be able to stay long.”

“Yes sir. I’ll let them know at once! The lady will be beside herself! A good day to you sir.” With his apparent mission accomplished Alfrid all but ran back to the estate that bordered the small town and Thranduil’s eyes followed him for a short moment before returning to the goose in his hunting bag. It would take him a few hours to hang and prepare it properly. It would be an acceptable waste of time in the interim.

 

His mind wandered as he prepared the goose. There was little to challenge him these days besides avoiding passionate advances of ladies and that required skill as well as luck to accomplish. He supposed that some day he would concede to one of them and take one as his wife. He repulsed at the thought of marrying the Master’s daughter. Beautiful though she was she was an insipid thing that constantly tore at his patience with her perfectly manicured claws. There were others whose company he could tolerate; but he was of the firm belief that a man of his appearance and talents should not have to settle. Nonetheless in a town this small the choices set before him were paltry. Perhaps if he journeyed to another town he might find his match among a new throng of admirers. It was certainly a tempting idea if the Master intended to force his appearance at tea with every opportunity. The more he thought about it the more the idea grew inside. Nothing permanent of course, but a few trips to nearby villages and towns could be exactly what he needed.

 

Over tea he explained to the Master that he would not be able to join them again tomorrow because of his traveling plans.

As expected Milta looked beside herself and looked at her father as if ordering him to forbid the venture.  “But father! It’s too dangerous to go beyond the woods everyone knows that!”

Thranduil tilted his head in her direction as a courteous show of consideration. It was far more than she deserved he thought but manners were another favorable trait he possessed. “Indeed but I have been in the woods many times and they hold no threat to me. I have hunted more than I or this town can consume and I thought it might be beneficial to open up relations between our neighbors. The winters here are hard and there are always those who need additional help. Though of course any trade between us will be taxed under the Master’s discretion.” Let it never be said that Thranduil was only a pretty face. There was only one thing the Master loved more than his daughter and it was his gold.

The Master perked up at this change in conversation and he silenced his daughter with a look. “Yes of course how kind of you to think about our neighbors as the harsh weather approaches. I am sure they have few hunters of your caliber to provide for them! And yes of course there is the small matter of taxes but I’m sure we could come to an agreement on your return.”

Thranduil could already see the man’s mind at work and bowed as he excused himself from the rest of tea. Even if his daughter wasn’t his last choice for a wife he could not bear to make himself a part of that man’s family.

 

Thranduil prepared himself and his horse. He brought enough supplies that he and the beast could comfortably carry and no more. He had learned as a younger man that there was a fine balance between being prepared and wasting precious energy on surplus.

The road in the wood was long familiar to him. He had spent much of his childhood hunting with his father before an accident took him. It was from him that Thranduil had learned all the skills necessary to see he and his mother through harsh winters.

His expression darkened as he remembers the Master’s easy reminder of how cruel the winters around the village could be. As if he did not know. As if he had not come _begging_ to him as a child for help for his mother. They had no gold to offer him and Thranduil had not grown into the hunter he would someday become. He had been turned away and forced to watch as his mother’s strength failed her day after day.

Eventually the day came where she stirred no more and Thranduil had alone dug her grave next to his father and retrieved the preacher to say a few words over the fresh ground. He had lived alone in their lodge ever since and he had no desire to change that.

 

He paused when the woods divided into two roads. He had never seen this fork before but it was far beyond what he usually traveled. He considered both path and drew his steed down the fairer one. He had no time limits beyond what he set for himself. If this road did not suit him he could always turn around.

The storm came upon them swiftly and the rains were blinding has he steered his horse further down the path. He was not sure they would be able to safely turn around in this weather and if the horse injured himself they were far too deep to easily make it back.

The sound of wolves came from all around and the horse spooked and pulled back on the reigns. Thranduil ran a calming hand down his flank but there was no reasoning with the creature. The thunder and lightning dulled its ears and the rain blinded its eyes. With the sound of predators approaching it threw Thranduil off and tore back towards the town. Lamentably with most of the supplies still strapped to his back.

Thranduil watched him go and muffled a curse. He still had his pack as well as his bow and arrows and a hunting knife. He had made do with worse before but the supplies would be wasted and all he could hope was the horse would find his way back. The sound of howls echoed through the woods again and he knew there were other matters he must attend to. Such as finding a way to survive the night.

A flash of lighting illuminated the path a head and he could make out the form of a fine mansion looming in the distance. He could recall no family that lived this far out but he hurried towards the gates. If he ran he would only inspire the wolves to hunt and he carried his knife at the ready. He kept his pace steady as he approached the gates but curiously despite the wolves trailing him they halted when they neared the entrance.

He considered them for a moment before turning back and opening the gates. Possibly the family who lived here made a habit of hunting wolves and the beasts had become wary of the area. Intelligent creatures they always remembered where they had suffered a loss, that was another reason he preferred to hunt them when he could. The forced him to change his strategy if he used it too many times.

The walk to the mansion was long and the path barren. The seasons were turning but a family of this much wealth should have been able to support a garden for a few more months. Perhaps because of their isolation they simply didn’t bother. He approached the door and knocked soundly. “Forgive my intrusion I seem to have lost my way and my horse. I would ask if you could spare a room for the night. I am able to pay for your troubles should that be required.”

The door opened on its own with no butler or servant insight. Thranduil pulled back his green hood and looked around. The mansion was large and certainly at one time lavish. For now it seemed to have been neglected for years. Dust was thick on the floor and webs littered the curtains and drapes. His hair had fallen loose in the skirmish and he idly tied it back with a leather thong as he considered his options.

There could be no family living here he reasoned, and if there was some sort of steward they were making a poor showing at preserving the house. He paused before continuing on and kept his knife at the ready. If the large house were abandoned than he might not be the only squatter finding shelter in the storm.

 

“Oh my what a handsome fellow don’t you think Thorin?” A whispered voice caught his ear and Thranduil spun ready to defend himself.

“Is someone here? I was forced to seek shelter here by the storm I mean no harm.” His voice carried in the empty halls and the feeling of eyes watching him had not wavered since he first entered.

“Hmph. Just allows himself in as though he were wanted. He’s no better than a thief stealing his way in here.” Another voice joined the first and Thranduil resented the implication that he was a thief.

“I can pay for my accommodations. I only ask that those giving me shelter reveal themselves. I’ll put away my knife if that would persuade you.” He slowly put the knife back in its sheathe and waited for the verdict.

The sound of footsteps approached him and he steeled himself to be ready for an attack. There was something strange happening in this place and he did not intend to fall victim to it.

When he turned he was startled to find there was no one there. Yet his instincts told him the two voices he had been hearing were standing before him. “Forgive me in the darkness I cannot see your forms. Could you provide a light?”

A flame appeared but neither form was revealed. The candle holders on the walls burst to life by no hands he could see and the warm light flooded the entry hall but Thranduil could plainly see that he was alone.  “What form of witchcraft is this?” He hissed his hand drawing back to his knife when something wrapped around his wrist in a strong grip and stilled his actions.

“No witchcraft my friend.  But a curse.” He turned and found himself facing a man with dark hair and deep eyes that seemed to have seen more than the years reflected on his skin. “Welcome to Erebor.”

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for enduring the long wait! I just want to be clear that everyone in this AU is human (curse or otherwise lol!) Thank you all so much for reading!

 

 

 

Thranduil soon learned that the steward’s name was Bard. He settled them comfortably by a roaring fire and food appeared for both of them though it was carried by invisible hands. He had kept himself on guard but his instincts told him the man was not much of a threat. In fact he hardly looked like much of _anything_ ; there were lines of grief drawn into his face and dark circles under his eyes. He seemed to reflect the state of the house, both handsome in their bones but both also worn down and derelict.

When they were settled Thranduil’s patience finally lost out. “As I said when I arrived the storm delayed me and I came to seek shelter. You speak of a curse and from what I have witnessed so far that seems to be true.”

Bard nodded and Thranduil noticed there were white and silver streaks in his dark hair. “There is Sir. I have long served this house and I will continue to serve it until the wood that supports it is dust and the ground it rests on is barren.”

Thranduil eyed the food and wondered if he was already ensnared in the curse as well or if it was perhaps like Persephone and he was only doomed when he took a bite. “And does this curse only affect those of the household?”

His unspoken question was heard and for the first time humor graced Bard’s expression “Yes Sir, you are free to eat without falling into our fate. You may leave in the morning or at this very moment if that pleases you. Only those bound to this house may not leave.”

Thranduil’s hunger encouraged him to take a bite and he made and impressed sound. “Thank you for the food, it is delicious after my perilous journey.” Prideful and vain though he might be Thranduil had never lost the manners his mother taught him.

Bard seemed pleased with that and smiled into the fire “Bombur will be pleased to hear that. He does not often leave the kitchen these days but having a guest inspired him to outdo himself.”

 

They ate in silence for a few passing moments. Thranduil watching the way the firelight played against Bard’s expression. He noticed that the man ate but sparingly and it seemed almost as if he were being prompted to do so. Strangely this made Thranduil’s own hunger wane as he thought about the man waiting for the house he was bound to to crumble to dust in order to be free.

“If I might ask…what is the nature of the curse?” He felt tension in the air but Bard’s expression did not change.

“Who does this stranger think he is?!  He barges into our home, eats our food, and now demands more from us?” The voice was of deep male’s and spoke off to the side of Thranduil though he saw nothing. It made the small hairs on his neck stand on end and his hand itch to hold one of his blades. He knew that if they had meant to harm him they would have already done so. Still…it was unnerving.

A softer voice, still masculine, answered. “Thorin! Of course he has questions. Don’t be rude to our guest because of your ill temper!”

Bard looked amused at the exchange when Thranduil turned to look askance at him. “They forget themselves forgive them. They are not used to any others but me and so are used to conversing in such a way. They are Bilbo and Thorin. Please give them time to become used to you.” Bard’s face once again creased with amusement “Especially Thorin.”

Remembering the question that had inspired the conversation Bard’s amusement faded. “It was a curse placed on our master long ago. He was selfish, cruel, and unkind. He had more wealth than he knew what to do with but refused to share it with any but himself and his sycophants. One day a woman came to our door asking for shelter. We had more than enough room and I thought nothing of offering her a place in the kitchen for the night. Our Master was informed by one of his spies and she was…humiliated.”

Bard bowed his head as though the transgression had been his own. “Our master had one of his servants bring her to a guest room and acted as though she were welcome to stay as long as she needed. Then as she was thanking the master for his generosity he laughed at her. He asked her why he would ever waste his home and food on an ugly old woman. He had her thrown out into the rain and all of her belongings tossed into the mud. Still she asked him if he would not at least let her rest by the fire as was my original offer. The master threw coals at her and said that was all that she would receive from him.”

“Before our Master could shut the door she transformed into a demon. She said that if he had been kind to her she would have turned into a beautiful woman and would have become his wife. Instead she sprouted horns like a dragon and scales covered her face. Her eyes were bright like fire as she cursed our master and everyone in the house.  She claimed if he could learn to love someone, and earn their love in return the spell would be broken. She gave him a rose that would bloom for the first ten years of the curse and then wilt for twice that. When the last petal fell the spell would be broken and our fates sealed.”

A chill ran through Thranduil as he watched the man before him relive that dark day. “And your master…is he still cursed?”

Bard’s head sharply denied it. “No…Our curse was complete nearly twenty years ago. The last petal fell and our master’s fate was sealed. He and the servants who helped humiliate the old woman disappeared when the last petal fell and now only we remain. Our forms are slowly forgotten. Our fate tied to the house that we served.  We do not know why our fate is different or how we may change it. All we can do is wait.”

Thranduil found his hunger had abandoned him completely. It was an incredible story, one that was nearly impossible to believe even with the truth right in front of him. He bowed his head “Forgive my prying. It is clear the topic causes you distress.”

Again silence descended upon them and Thranduil was left with the impression that this happened frequently. Bard looked as though he had forgotten he was not alone and his thoughts seemed to wander. Before long the clock struck midnight and he snapped himself out of his reserve. “Please allow me to show you to your room. If the storm passes you may take whatever supplies you need with you in the morning.”

The thought of leaving these kind people to their fate disquieted Thranduil but his mind was overtired and his body sore from the long ride and then escaping the wolves. He was led to an opulent bedroom that was fresh and clean, certainly in better state than the rest of the house. He turned to Bard and politely inclined his head “Thank you again for your generosity.”

The worn smile he was growing used to seeing from Bard welcomed him once again “Think nothing of it my friend. Your visit will tide us over for a long time. Please get your rest and I will see you in the morning.”

Soon he was left alone in the room, or at least he hoped so as his mind wandered to the invisible voices he heard. He found himself ridiculous for doing so but he softly called “Is anyone here?” When no voices answered him he prepared himself for sleep and found himself soon drifting off into a restful slumber.

 

 

Bard stared at the fire as Bilbo came to his side. The remaining house spirits were shy and often hid their forms from outsiders. Now with their guest safely to bed Bilbo allowed himself to be seen. A short man in life but with a cheery expression and a head full of curls it was often overlooked due to his large personality. “Well he’s certainly an interesting fellow isn’t he?”

Bard nodded his head though his gaze didn’t deviate from the fire. “He most certainly is. And no doubt he will sneak out at first light. He will not want to risk being attached to our fate.”

A snort came from his other side as Thorin appeared. Tall and dark as he was in life with enough strength in his arms to carry out his multiple duties. His long hair was braided back in the tradition of his people and shone in the firelight as he looked to the stairs. “Prideful that one. He would not be able to endure our curse.”

For that Bard had nothing to say. As the steward many still looked to him to lead the house and he had no answers for why they remained or for how many more years they would continue to do so. He thought perhaps it was because they had never shared much loyalty to their master, only the house they served. Besides that he had nothing to give them. Not even hope.

Bilbo and Thorin fell silent and let him wander his thoughts. Eventually they would return to the other servants and pass on news of their guest. For now though, as the storm raged outside and the darkest time of night passed to the creeping dawn they merely stared into the fire with him and waited.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading I'll try to update soon!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally an update on this story! Thank you for your patience!

 

 

 

That night Thranduil had a dream.

He was standing outside of the same house, but it was obviously in far grander times. The sun was shining, the garden was vibrant with life and the trees were filled with blossoms that sweetly scented the air. It was the height of summer and as far away from a stormy night as Thranduil could imagine.

The sound of children laughing caught his attention and he turned to see three young ones running amongst the grass. An older girl who seemed to be playing but also keeping a watchful eye, her manner suggested that this was common. A boy who reminded Thranduil of someone but he could not quite place who; and a little girl who seemed to be inspiring most of their games.

He was struck by the vision and watched them for a moment. He was distracted quickly when a familiar voice called out to them. Their words were muffled and distant but the tone was overall happy and pleasant.

Turning he saw Bard, but younger and certainly healthier by far. He smiled brightly as he gathered the children in his arms and they burst with stories of their adventures and eagerly demanded his attention.  Thranduil was suddenly struck remembering the watchful expression Bard had warn the evening before as he spoke of the curse. Was he thinking of his children? What happened to them?

The scene played out and slowly it started to draw away as though he was being pulled back. He wanted to shout out a warning to them. Tell them of the demon and of the curse and spare them from what was coming. His voice was caught in his throat and he was unable to utter a word before he found himself sitting straight up in the bed and gasping in the darkness.

A strange house delivers strange dreams, he rationalized with himself. There was no way of knowing if Bard did indeed have children and even if he had there was no polite way of inquiring without raising further harm. He dragged his hand over his face and took a deep breath. He would leave by first light and put this strange place behind him.

 

 

Thorin settled n the kitchen as Bombur hummed around in the background. No doubt already thinking of the breakfast he would prepare for his guest. Thorin hoped that the stranger at least had the courtesy to taste it. It had been so long since the cook had enjoyed his craft and Thorin did not want a coward ruining that.

Bilbo’s hand was gentle on his shoulder and he looked up at his husband. It had been many years since they were able to eat for themselves. Only Bard remained needing sustenance and so it was their duty to make sure that he ate enough to keep himself strong. Of all the things the curse took from them Thorin would be forever glad to the demon’s mercy that she had left him Bilbo. He could not imagine enduring their fifty years of imprisonment without him and not going mad.

Bilbo’s hand squeezed his shoulder as though he had guessed his thoughts and he leaned down to press a kiss to his lips. Their corporal forms were fading. They had to concentrate to appear before Bard and they had to remain focused when the carried out their chores around the house least their hands slide right through their tasks. It was not a good sign and Thorin knew that they all feared that before long it would be only Bard who remained.

Familiar anger flared up inside of Thorin. Out of all those in the household Bard had been the only one to treat the demon with any kindness! Yet she seemed determined to make his curse the worst. Not only did she seal him to the fate of his master but she had also taken his children from him!

Warm hands held his own and he looked up into Bilbo’s soft eyes “We don’t know why she cursed us the way she did. But I have to believe there was a reason for it. Just as there was a reason she gave our master a chance at breaking the curse. Have faith Thorin.”

Closing his eyes Thorin’s anger cooled. If nothing else he had Bilbo. If nothing else they were together. That would have to be enough for now.

 

Bard had chosen to remain in his room given to him when he became steward. It didn’t seem right to him that he take the master’s old room. He was not the master of his house merely the guardian of it. The one who watched over until their fates were decided. He let the fire burn down and didn’t call anyone to stroke it for him. The cold was bracing after having a warm dinner with an interesting guest. He wondered about the man’s eyes. He seemed as though he had quite a story to tell and it had been a long time since he had heard anything new. The worse part of the curse wasn’t their state of deterioration but the boredom that came with the waiting. He looked down at the faded drawing of his children and wondered if he would ever see them again.

 

He fell asleep leaning back in his chair with the drawing laid out against his lap. Even when the sun rose he did not stir. It was strange for him to sleep late and so when Bilbo came to check on him and saw the picture he quietly raised the fire and closed the door leaving their steward to his rest. He wondered if his sleep had anything to do with their guest and if there was anything he could possibly say that would convince the stranger to linger in their home just a little while longer.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I'll try to update soon!


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